


Mussed Fur

by Badwolf36



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Gore, Gen, Grooming, Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 15:32:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19815211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badwolf36/pseuds/Badwolf36
Summary: Madara can tell the exact moment when Natsume notices the blood, because he freezes in place.“Sensei?” He sounds small, like he did just a short time ago when he realized the youkai intended to slaughter him (even after regaining its name).





	Mussed Fur

Madara hates getting his fur mussed.

He’s always taken pride in his appearance.

_“Vain!”_ Hinoe has taunted him more than once.

Even in his maneki-neko form, he prefers to be well-groomed.

So it probably says something about Natsume’s effect on him that he doesn’t even mind that his fur is currently soaked in blood and speckled with bits of shredded flesh.

After all, Natsume is safe now.

The boy himself is tucked between Madara’s forelegs, unconscious, but still breathing. The Book of Friends is clutched in his arms, one page thinner. Madara curls his upper lip over his fangs, annoyed at how little that fact bothers him.

Frustrated, he starts licking at his stained fur, grimacing at the thick, hot copper taste he once used to revel in. He keeps licking though, carefully setting each stained tuft to rights.

His fur is still mottled shades of pink and crimson when Natsume awakes with a series of rapid-fire coughs.

“Easy,” Madara rumbles. Natsume starts briefly before relaxing back against Madara’s chest.

“Sensei,” he says, sounding relieved. “How long have I been out?”

“Not long. I don’t think we’ve missed dinner yet.”

Natsume scoffs. “Of course you would measure time in food.”

Madara can tell the exact moment when Natsume notices the blood, because he freezes in place.

“Sensei?” He sounds small, like he did just a short time ago when he realized the youkai intended to slaughter him (even _after_ regaining its name).

“It’s not yours. Or mine.”

“Oh.”

Madara pauses. It’s obvious Natsume’s upset, but he can’t think of what to say that might comfort him. He settles for nudging the boy with his nose.

“Cold!” Natsume complains, but it’s half-hearted.

Madara begins grooming himself again, licking around Natsume as the human slowly begins to pull himself together. His grip on the Book of Friends keeps tightening reflexively, like he’s torn between chucking it away from himself or clutching it to his heart. He does neither.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to clean your fur if you were smaller?” Natsume finally asks.

Madara blinks slowly, processing the question. “That’s…true.”

But if he’d transformed, he wouldn’t have been able to tuck Natsume between his forelegs and keep him safe. If he’d been smaller, that youkai would have ripped out Natsume’s throat with his teeth and claws. If he’d gone back to his maneki-neko form, he couldn’t have guaranteed that he’d have been able to protect the boy (and the Book; the book came first, obviously) in his vulnerable state.

“Ah,” Natsume says. He pulls his legs up to his chest and turns so he’s curling his side into Madara’s chest. “You could stay like this a little longer though. I don’t…I don’t mind.”

“Hmmph. Like I need you to tell me what to do,” Madara grumps, but he can’t deny the rush of warmth that surges through him. He’s not sure if Natsume has seen through him, or whether the boy has decided to take the only comfort on offer, but he’s not sure he cares. He can remain like this for as long as Natsume needs. Although a thought occurs to him. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m not missing dinner because you decided that putting yourself in danger was more important.”

Natsume huffs out a laugh before falling silent.

“Just…just a little longer?” he asks quietly. “I’ll make sure we both have time to get cleaned up before Touko even calls us down.”

Madara bumps the side of his snout against Natsume, pleased when the boy automatically starts rubbing the short fur in a way that doesn’t irritate his sensitive whiskers in the slightest.

“Fine,” Madara says. “This is an imposition, but if we make it back in time for dinner, I’ll allow it.”

His ears twitch forward as Natsume sighs with relief, slumping down into his fur even though it’s likely still sticky. But if Natsume’s not complaining, Madara isn’t going to point it out.

“Thank you, Sensei. I’ll make sure you get some extra dinner.”

Madara grumbles with pleasure, nudges Natsume’s head with his snout, and returns to his fur. He can deal with a little muss if it means Natsume is safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Reviews are adored!


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